


Under the Brave Black Flag

by mspennydreadful



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 13:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3694463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mspennydreadful/pseuds/mspennydreadful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A respectable woman would have fainted and probably died that night. It is the first of many occasions to come in which Elizabeth will shock herself by behaving entirely too boldly and thus actually surviving the trouble she finds herself in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Brave Black Flag

At first, Elizabeth dismissed the distant booming noises as thunder. Port Royal was often visited by tropical storms with the slightest notice, and there had been a gathering wind all day. She barely paid any heed: her ignored book open upon her lap, her mind upon the events of the afternoon.

She remembers being vexed by Will Turner's cool formality and her father's scolding, and the way the boning of her corset had stabbed into her ribcage each time the carriage had jostled. And then the terrible, oppressive heat from a cloudless sky beating down upon the unsuspecting crowd gathered for James Norrington's promotion ceremony. Truly, she had thought she was going to faint under the sweltering sun and interrupt the formalities. (She recalls little of the ceremony, except for trying to stay conscious and the extremely well-polished boots of the company of marines.)

The new Commodore had asked to speak to her alone and Elizabeth later barely recalled the fact that he had actually proposed. His voice had swum in and out of her awareness as the corset seemed to grow tighter and tighter until ultimately, it had claimed her. She remembers a nervous, earnest look on James Norrington's handsome face...

... and then coughing and choking and spitting up a good deal of seawater, the salt taste of it lining her mouth disgustingly with brine. Above her, one of the strangest and most fascinating-looking men she had ever set eyes upon. He, too, dripping wet.

Realisation had dawned slowly as the stranger had frowned at the pirate medallion at her throat. _He's a pirate, and I nearly drowned. He saved me._

She had been pulled into her father's arms and wrapped in his frockcoat. Norrington had been set to hang her rescuer and Elizabeth could not brook such ingratitude. What had possessed her, she still does not know, but she remembers stalking over to stand between the pirate and the commodore, clad in naught but her drenched shift.

Elizabeth remembers the chains against her neck, the musket at her forehead. She also remembers the press of the pirate's body and the way the 'goods' had jumped beneath her fingertips. Captain Jack Sparrow, Norrington had called him, and the worst pirate he'd ever heard of. Captain Jack Sparrow had made good his escape, and had not hurt Elizabeth more than his escape had necessitated.

 

She'd always wanted to meet a pirate. But she'd never dared imagine one so compelling. Her mind replayed every second of their meeting over and over, slowly. Meticulously. _Elizabeth, is it? --It's Miss Swann._ His careful pronunciation of her name, the fact that even when holding her hostage to ensure his escape from the noose his grip had been respectful and --

\-- and the noise has continued too long. In too quick succession. Elizabeth realises with a gasp that it is cannon fire she hears, not thunder. Racing to the window of her bedchamber, she looks out and sees marauders making their way to the door. Too late she yells a warning to their butler and watches the man die in front of her, ended so quickly by gunshot.

_Hello, poppet._

She screams and runs, her mind racing for avenues of escape, for options. To her bedroom. Talk of kidnap, ransom. _You're the governor's daughter._ Her maid, given orders to flee.

The tall skinny one with the fake eye follows and attempts to grab at her. Without thinking, Elizabeth snatches up her bedpan and hits him in the face. Later, she will be impressed with her ability to think on her feet, but for now, survival is paramount. He presses on and she showers him with ash and keeps running.

Her father's display of swords turns out to be disappointingly, dangerously ornamental. (She nearly breaks her arm attempting to wrest one free.) She can only hide, tales of rape and pillage and murder racing through her head -- she's read pirate stories since she was a little girl and cannot help but remember the worst of them now. If she were a man, she might have a better chance, but, alas...

_We know you're here, poppet. The gold, it calls to us._

Belatedly, she remembers the pirate medallion that hangs between her breasts under her nightgown. Elizabeth's breath catches in her throat as the thin golden sliver of light between the doors that hide her disappears... and the weather-beaten face of the shorter, stouter pirate appears.

_Hello, poppet._

What possesses her to blurt _Parlay!_ , besides her keen survival instinct (and one day she will learn just how keen it truly is) can surely only be the brain-decay that her governesses always swore would happen if Elizabeth kept reading the penny dreadful pirate stories that she loves so much.

_Parlay. According to the Code of the Brethren, set down by the pirates Morgan and Bartholemew..._ (A respectable woman would have fainted and probably died that night. It is the first of many occasions to come in which Elizabeth will shock herself by behaving entirely too boldly and thus actually surviving the trouble she finds herself in.) _You have to take me to your Captain._

_\-- She wants to see the Captain... and she'll go without a fuss._

She realises, truly, that her life has altered irrevocably when she finds herself standing upon the decks of the Black Pearl. The frigate and its tattered black sails have haunted her dreams since she was a little girl and saw the ship flying pirate colours on the crossing from England.

She looks into the eyes of Hector Barbossa and feels exhilarated, as if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment...

_I'm here to negotiate cessation of hostilities against Port Royal._

... and maybe, just maybe, she has.


End file.
